


Forever blowing bubbles

by cigarettesandalcohol



Category: Men's Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Bittersweet Ending, Chelsea FC, Confusion, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Light Angst, M/M, Tension, West Ham United
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28112706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettesandalcohol/pseuds/cigarettesandalcohol
Summary: fortune's always hiding //i've looked everywhere //i'm forever blowing bubbles //pretty bubbles in the air
Relationships: Mark Noble/Declan Rice
Kudos: 2





	Forever blowing bubbles

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and none of it has happened. I love these two, I think they have great chemistry and I would love to see them win many games and hopefully some trophies together. If Declan leaves, life's over.  
> Feedback is welcome, as always.

He's been hiding his feelings from everyone, himself included, for so long that he couldn't really tell why it was so difficult now to keep up with the rest of the team, laugh, and engage in conversations. The first team party and dinner of the season always used to be an occasion of hopeful beginnings and happy reunions; he just couldn't feel any of it now. He's been sitting at the table between Snods and Ben and listening to their neverending banter but every word and every joke just seemed to fly past him without much notice. His attention was always disrupted - by _one person_ in particular - and he could last only _so long_ before wanting to get away from the madness, the laughter, and shrieks - and get into a safe, comfy space where he could be left alone without the annoying disturbances. When the noise and madness got too much for him to handle, he got up and walked away, getting outside, into the open world, wanting to get a few deep breaths and steps in.

The air was chilly outside and he pulled the open coat closer to his body as he walked down the three or four steps from the restaurant on the pavement. He pulled a pack of chewing gum that he always carried with him from the pocket and took one piece. Chewing always made him at peace when he was stressed or bored out of his mind, and while he knew some of his teammates were easily annoyed at this bad habit of his, he never got rid of it. He chewed, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat to keep them warm, and looked up at the sky. He could see his breath in the cold air, floating in a cloud for a moment and then dissolving against the ink-colored background. 

This was his private moment of peace. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he longed for the pre-season dinner party for days, couldn't wait to see the lads again - and as soon as they were all together, the only thing on his mind was an escape. He used to enjoy these special occasions a lot more when he was surrounded by his mates and the only concern was the first game of the season. Now there was the virus and new challenges ahead of them all, the fans protesting against the board and of course, the good old question mark about the future of the club. Maybe it was yet another side effect of getting old that he started to care more about the way the club was heading. He spoke to Moyes about that many times, and the gaffer was honest with him. _You'll get the chances, you'll get the minutes, but we need to give a chance to the younger players as well. I'll still need you around, Mark, you're a good example and I value your opinion highly_. He was thankful for the Scotsman's honesty. _You're a good example for the young lads, you know, the likes of Declan_.

_Yeah, the likes of Declan._

He hated to think of Declan as someone who must look up to him because it made him feel old, maybe even older than he actually was. Declan didn't have to look up to anyone, he was a natural leader, born star, nice to everyone around him; always humble and level-headed. Mark could remember him as the tall lanky kid with a silly haircut that always looked a bit starstruck around the first team players and was too shy to talk to the manager. That was a couple of years ago. He's matured so much since then, he didn't really need much help anymore, and Noble found himself wondering about this way too often when he watched him in the training - has Declan overgrown this club? Was it the right time to spread his wings and just... _fuck off to a better place_?

Mark heard some steps behind him and turned around. It was almost as if his thoughts materialized out of thin air - it was Declan, slowly making his way from the restaurant door. 

"Oi! You're leaving already?" Only then Nobes realized that Declan was just in his dark blue shirt so he most likely wasn't on his way home. 

Declan shook his head, showing him the phone in his hand. "Gotta call my mum."

 _Jesus_.

 _Of all the people_.

"Embarrassing, that," Nobes teased him but there's actually very little playfulness in him. Deccers rolled his eyes and shrugged, _of course_ , which twenty-one-years-old would be happy to be calling his mum in front of a mate?, but he smiled while doing that, he's a good kid, and Nobes knew that he loved his mum so there's actually nothing embarrassing about that. Declan found the number and put the phone to his ear, smiling apologetically. Mark understood. It's private. He showed him that he got it, bowed his head, and made a few steps away; not nearly enough to give Dec any _real_ privacy. He could still hear the snippets of the call.

" _Hi - yeah, I'm good - yeah, we're here. With the guys_." He laughed, side-eyeing Mark. " _I'm good. Yeah. I'm alright_. _Mark's here... Yeah. Mark Noble_." He said it with such shyness as if he was almost afraid or embarrassed by knowing the West Ham captain who was now standing close to him. When he said his full name, Nobes could feel the invisible force tightening his throat. _Don't worry, mum, Mark's here, Mark's been here since forever, he's been here when I joined the academy and he's taking care of me_.

 _Twelve years is not that much_ , he tells himself. Twelve years is not that much, especially when Dec himself acts like a fucking veteran of the Premier League, not asking for mercy and concessions from his pals. He's been training with them since he was what, _sixteen, seventeen_? And now he was an irreplaceable member of the team, something that others at his age could only dream of. 

_He's not really handsome, is he_? Mark studied his face and the facial expressions that there were many of as he spoke to his mum. He's never had to bother with thoughts of this kind and he sure as hell never wondered which one of his teammates would be deemed handsome - but with Decland he couldn't help it. Was he handsome? He couldn't tell. He obviously wasn't the model kind of guy, he didn't like to show off and make himself the star of the scene, he still looked a bit gangly, like an overgrown schoolboy, a bit unsure in his steps. The tight buttoned-up shirt wasn't really helping. Declan always looked more comfortable in training gear or in baggy sweatpants and a hoodie.

" _Yeah, don't worry -_ _I'll text you when I'm home. Okay. Bye_."

He smiled at Nobes to apologize for his embarrassing family phone call. "What are you doing here? We thought Snods' been winding you up and you left."

"No, no, I just wanted - " He waved his hand and chewed his gum in a fast, nervous manner that became his kind of stress relief. "Wanted to get out for a while."

"Alright."

Declan smiled again but the moment grew uncomfortable as neither of them spoke for the next few seconds, and he let out an awkward little laugh when he noticed the way Nobes was watching him. "What are you staring at me for?" 

_He WAS handsome_ , how could he think otherwise. With the stubble and slightly longer hair he definitely looked good. Maybe not THAT good, but certainly good enough to make Mark's train of thoughts lose track. He even forgot to chew his gum.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked out of nowhere, cunningly avoiding Declan's own question. He noticed that Dec had nowhere to put his phone now so he just crossed his arms over his chest to keep some warmth to his body.

"Yeah, but I thought I'll get inside now anyway - "

"Come on." Noble got his own coat off, sliding his arms out of the sleeves smoothly, and wrapped it around Dec's shoulders. It must have looked comical as Declan was noticeably taller than him but he didn't care. In truth, he just wanted to get his hands on Dec in a subtle manner that would allow him to show care and love more than anything he could do during training, without being too weird or intrusive. 

"I've got my jacket inside, I could go get it," Declan protested but Mark didn't listen. He adjusted the coat at Dec's shoulders and ran his hands down to the younger boy's chest to smooth it out. 

"Now _you_ 'll be cold," Declan complained but didn't flinch nor pulled away from his captain's hands. 

"I won't." Nobes shook his head and chewed on the gum a bit faster now, hoping it could make him look completely relaxed and carefree. "Not with you standing here."

Declan blushed - Nobes has never seen anyone really blush in the span of a few milliseconds like that - and looked down at the tips of his shoes. There was only a small gap between them and Nobes' ones. He tried to take a deep breath and look right in Nobes' eyes. "You know, sometimes, you say these things..." He looked down again, licking his lip, unable to stand just how blue Nobes' eyes were. "I don't know how to feel."

He took in another deep breath and tried to pull away - just for a moment - but couldn't bring himself to do so. What should he do? The only solution was obvious. _Why was it obvious? Why was even such a thought on his mind_? He couldn't just lean in and kiss his captain out of nowhere. There was no reason. Well - there was no reasonable explanation for why he should want to do that. But the atmosphere felt right. Everything about the situation was just screaming for a _kiss_. It felt too hot in Nobes' coat now. He couldn't really move and all he could see were Mark's lips moving when he spoke.

"You'll figure it out." The tension of the moment made him swallow the gum as he couldn't keep chewing it this close to Declan. The jaw movement was too distracting. He still kept his hands on the coat and, _in fact_ , on Declan's chest. "It took me a while as well." He moved his palms onto Dec's shoulders and then his neck, pulling him closer. "Take this as a hint."

It was Declan who took charge at that moment, he didn't need _a hint_ at all because this was purely instinctive and spontaneous. He placed his free hand on the back of Mark's head, feeling the short, soft hair under his fingers, while he wrapped his other hand, the one clutching his phone, around Nobes' waist. The kiss tasted of mint chewing gum and he grasped as much of Nobes' hair as he could, tightening his grip painfully, wanting to savor the moment of madness in his memories forever. When he gasped for air again, he clumsily pressed their foreheads together, taking short, jerky breaths as if he's just run a marathon. Nobes' forehead was feverishly hot and he was breathing just as heavily as him.

"See," Mark rasped, finally catching some breath. "I'm not cold at all."

* * *

As soon as the whistle blows, he goes to hug Mase. He feels like shit, and losing games is never easy, although playing for West Ham should have made him more accommodated to this feeling. It still hurts as he knows they had some chances and their gameplay was decent, they just couldn't grab the chances - 

"Hey, nice game." Mason smiles and pulls him into a hug, and there's the familiar apologetic softness in his eyes because he is sorry, in his own way, just as he's always been. _Sorry for being more impressive in the Chelsea Academy, sorry for staying when Declan had to leave, sorry for playing for a statistically more successful team, sorry for being a rising star of the team you've always dreamed of playing for as a child._

"Cheers."

"Don't worry, you'll be on the winning side soon," Mase laughs - _the cheeky bastard_ \- and pats him on the back. He then goes to say hi to Lampard and some of the other lads. It was a good game, after all, and he doesn't want to seem bitter.

Noble was waiting for him in the tunnel leading to the away dressing room, leaning back against the wall, looking somewhere up at the ceiling. Declan felt a familiar sting of disappointment; which he always did when he saw Noble hurting after an especially painful loss.

"We tried," he said quietly, hoping that it could offer him at least some consolidation but when Mark looked at him, he knew immediately that it wasn't just the loss that made him hurt. Some of the older lads used to joke about him being a sappy, emotional person, but he didn't see that when he first started to train and play with them; he only saw him as a club hero, a guy who is 100 % committed and ready to bleed claret and blue on the pitch if necessary. He used to think they were saying it just to wind him up but as time went on, he learned that there was something soft and vulnerable behind the image of the man who became a synonym for the club itself, with his laddish behavior, guy-next-door image, and down to earth attitude.

His eyes speak for him better than words would now, there's all the pain and heartbreak he probably wouldn't be able to put in words. He is actually a gentle soul, _quite a romantic person_ , as he himself admitted in one interview not that long ago. And the pain in his eyes is real. It takes Dec some time to understand why, why now, why after _this_ game.

Nobes doesn't say a word as he finally takes the captain's armband off. Instead, he takes it in his hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses it in a ceremonial way, as if he was blessing it, and then hands it over to Rice.

It's a subtle gesture and as soon as it's over Dec can't really tell whether it really happened or his mind is playing games with him, however, the armband is in his hand and Noble presses it, folds his fingers over it to make sure he understands - _it could be yours, it is yours, I am yours_. It said more than any words would.

Declan's heart sank. He knew that Nobes must have seen him hugging Mason and talking to the other Chelsea lads but the subtle, unspoken air of something special surrounding this moment left him speechless. He was still at loss for words when Nobes placed his hand gently on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"They broke your heart all those years ago. Don't let them do it again."


End file.
